


Grey

by TheHuntress25



Series: Rebirth [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Murder, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Substance Abuse, Threats of Violence, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuntress25/pseuds/TheHuntress25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy has been burdened with guilt for two years and even though the War has ended, his heart can never heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey

 

The _boom_ and _crash_ of a vicious thunderstorm nearly shattered the world into pieces but Draco Malfoy hardly seemed aware of the noise. A bottle of firewhiskey dominated the filthy expanse of his desk and he couldn't help but notice that it was nearly empty, there was a dull ringing in his head that made him think of church bells. Draco ran a trembling hand over his ashen face and felt the first signs of stubble blossoming on his chin, he had once been rather meticulous about his appearance but for the past two years he hadn't dreaded up the effort.

 

It would horrify his former friends if they could see what a mess he had become and he was more than thankful that they were no longer in his life. He could only handle so much toxins in a day—most of which he inflicted on himself. Draco drank too much, cried too often and neglected the last few people who would dare to love him but that wasn't nearly enough motivation for him to heal. The restless pain that he fought against was too deep to be soothed by a few promises, no one would be able to pull him out of the darkness that was smothering him.

 

What was the point of living after everything that he had done?

 

Draco swallowed back a sob and reached hastily for the bottle, his thin fingers shaking so badly that he barely managed to wrap his hand around it. The weight of it felt solid and comforting, as if the hard liquor knew how much of a failure as a human being he was and flung the top away before chugging the remaining few drops. A pool of noxious flame slid down his throat that was more painful than he had expected but he fought past the burn and gratefully savored the last few drips until the numbing pain faded away.

 

Relief was almost instantaneous and he could feel his lungs nearly bursting with an effort to inhale, this was what the great Draco Malfoy had been reduced to. Hours seemed to pass and the thunder outside roared all the louder but he slumped miserably in his chair, trembling and hating himself so intensely that he found himself tossing the bottle with a howl of rage.

 

The polished glass shattered on the hardwood floors like a bomb, sending the shards everywhere and he laughed at the mess that he had created. He could clean it up in a matter of seconds with his wand but didn't reach for it...he wanted to stare at those shards for a while.

 

The thunderstorm had proven to be quite the boon after all and Draco found himself fighting against the urge to scream again. He was certain that his madness would awaken the rest of the household and some manner of decency forced him not to give in to the urge, though the misery that was working into his system demanded to be unleashed.

 

This was the same hellish cycle that had tormented him for the past two years and he knew that he was far from healing, there was too much guilt weighing his soul down. Memories threatened to assault him and he felt the sting of ugly tears in his eyes, “I hate this, I hate this, I _hate_ this!” He muttered, defeating the urge to sob.

 

There was nothing left of the arrogant person that he had been and the horrendous mistakes that he had caused...he would always remember them no matter how much time passed. The guilt was threatening to eat him alive and he had spent many days locked in this room, drowning in it until his heart was completely drowned, battered and raw.

 

Draco would _never_ let himself forget, no matter how much time passed and somehow managed to beat the tears back until they were burning in the back of his eyelids, his skull pounding with the force of the storm raging outside. He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged on the pale blonde locks until he was gasping from the bit of pain. It was almost the only thing he could feel now, which made his suffering all the more complete, making the urge to live almost pointless.

 

These weren't unusual thoughts for him lately and he couldn't stand what his guilt had turned him into but there wasn't any peace from the constant storm of it in his mind. It had been just another miserable day. Draco was unsure how much time had passed but heard the familiar _tick_ of the grandfather clock down the hall, the sound more grating than the rain that splashed against his window.

 

He inhaled raggedly and gagged softly as he tasted the bile at the tip of his tongue, his blood shot eyes wandering over the dark expanse of what had been his father's study with a scowl. The ancient room was spacious, obnoxiously elegant and bursting with priceless family heirlooms that were rumored to go back hundreds of years. Draco could barely stand to touch anything, hating the legacy that he was left to bury on his own.

 

Draco knew that his father would have been infuriated by the signs of neglect and dust on some of his more priceless artifacts. Lucius Malfoy had spent much of his free time here before becoming a willing victim in the Dark Lord's schemes and he had worshiped the man, there had been no greater hero to his eyes. How many times had he snuck into this room with a broken toy that needed mending? He nearly smiled at the memories but pushed them aside, he was certain that his father would never be returning to this room any time soon.

 

The Malfoy name was in complete tatters and even with their fortune, it felt like a small victory when he recalled how much had been lost for those Galleons—which had prompted him to donate most of it to charity. His mother had been scandalized but he had remained firm, gained a job at the Ministry and was working to support them all instead of bathing in a sea of coins without any purpose.

 

It had been Draco's decision to make in the end regardless, his father had suffered intense spell damage and was currently in St. Mungo's. It was still unclear if he would ever truly recover but he was certain that Lucius Malfoy's glory days were over. He had tried to discover who had cursed his father that night but there had been far too much activity and the dead had mattered far more.

 

There had been a glassy quality to his father's eyes as they had sat at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by the merrymaking of the remaining students, teachers and Hogsmeade villagers. His mother had been trembling slightly beside him and he had taken her small hand in his own and held it tightly, willing her not to abandon him now when he needed her the most but her spirit had been shattered.

 

The terror that they had faced living with the Dark Lord for so long had taken its toll and his beautiful mother had withered before his eyes until she resembled a broken little doll. Draco had felt a sick flood of satisfaction to see his father suffering so greatly...it was what the bastard deserved for putting them through the most awful experiences of their lives.

 

Even though the sensation had been brief, he had felt sick to his stomach and it was shortly afterward that his father was committed to St. Mungo's. _“We'll see your father well again soon.”_ His mother had said through her tears.

 

Draco had only been to visit his ailing father at St. Mungo's sporadically over the past two years, their relationship was nearly worth pitying. The spell damage done to his father had caused him to suffer in exceptional pain for the first several months but it had gradually faded until he was able to walk, talk and move around once more without the aid of a Healer. Draco had never seen him so humbled but he had noticed the conniving spark in his grey eyes and had made their conversations short, they held an equal amount of embarrassment and shame in each other.

 

Lucius Malfoy had been blind with fury when Draco's mother had told him about the charity work that he had started, his father despising that a portion of their fortune was going to those in need. A vicious row had ensued that had shaken the walls around them and Draco was certain that the Healers would probably never want to see him again, though he had only been focused on the sound of his mother's sobs.

 

“I'm a _disgrace_ to the Malfoy name.” Draco cackled. It had been nearly a year ago and he hadn't even bothered to tell him about his marriage, his child or the state of his world—the old gargoyle would probably collapse from the shame of it all.

 

The War had been over for two years but he still felt the sting of guilt like it was yesterday and he was plagued by the sounds of Granger's screams whenever he wandered through the Manor. There was an unholy taint on his childhood home that no amount of time could wash away and he despised the man that he had once thrived to be, “I'll never be a man.” Draco whispered as he ran his fingers through his hair once more, allowing his nails to sink into the messy tangles.

 

The thunderstorm was raging wildly outside and he angled his chair with jerking movements, strangely curious to see the flash of lightning that streaked by the window. Flashes of light briefly illuminated the gloomy interior until he thought he was in Hell. It was raining heavily and he winced at what his wife would say about the state of her prized rose garden in the morning but found himself smiling, “Angel tears.” Was what his grandmother had always called bad storms like this.

 

Draco's mind conjured flimsy images of holy beings waging war for the sins of corrupted wastes like himself. The Battle of Hogwarts had nearly been two years ago but the wounds were still fresh, forcing him to uncomfortably admit that he wasn't the only one suffering. There had been countless deaths that night, including Colin Creevey and a few of his fellow Slytherins who had decided at the last minute that they possessed souls after all.

 

Draco had heard many of them had been killed by Death Eaters but he hadn't wanted to learn anymore about their deaths. The night had unfolded with nothing but terror and,his heart had been flooded with guilt when had overheard Katie Bell and her friends sobbing over the loss of Fred Weasley sometime during the night.

 

He had felt a pit in the center of his stomach at the news, the boy had saved his life when Draco had stumbled upon a corridor that had nearly been flooded with Death Eaters and students. Weasley had roughly jerked him away from a curse aimed straight for his heart, screaming, _“I'm not going to be the one responsible for your sorry arse!”_

 

Draco had run away without even bothering to thank him.

 

There had been blood on the corridor floors and bodies everywhere while the air had been thick with smoke. Draco had been devastated by the fact that that one act of kindness had ended with the wrong person being dead. He felt the burning pressure of tears beginning once more and stood from his chair, barely managing to stop himself from collapsing. Draco reached out to steady himself with a foul curse, awkwardly propped against the edge of his desk and sending dozens of sealed letters and overdue bills to the floor in a wild cascade.

 

“I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it,” He whispered thickly.

 

Draco hadn't allowed himself to cry tonight and the urge was so outlandishly tempting that he knew that once he did, the relief would only last for a few hours before the cycle started all over again. The large pile of letters seemed to mock him just then and he gritted his teeth furiously at how easily he had allowed his life to fall apart, he had taken advantage of his parent's spoiling for most of his life.

 

It was still hard for him to imagine that he had gone through the world so blind, relying on his parent's lies and house-elves to clean up his messes when he refused to act like a human being. Swearing under his breath, Draco shook the images out of his mind and sank to his knees, feeling a spark of triumph over the privileged boy that he had been for so long.

 

He snatched a crumpled letter beneath his desk with a scowl, his eyes scanning over it suspiciously before opening it with drunk determination:

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I hope this letter finds you in better spirits than the last time we spoke, though I think that you may not want to ever feel any peace. I know that things between us have never been good, especially when we were at Hogwarts together but I would like to put those days behind us. There's still a part of myself that refuses to forgive you for what you've done but neither of us will ever be happy until we move forward._

 

_I hope that time will allow us both to recover and I want my future child to know that I was brave enough to take the first step towards forgiveness. I never thought that I would ever have a family of my own but this pregnancy has made me understand the example I'll leave. My parents left me with nothing but painful memories and I refuse to do the same, which is why I've finally taken the time to write this letter to you._

 

_I realized the other night as I spoke with my husband that I would never truly heal myself if I allowed all of that anger to take control of me again. My family has always had a bad habit of sinking into our madness and I don't want to be another willing victim of it._

 

_I've written this letter to apologize._

 

_I intended on visiting you one morning at Malfoy Manor to confront you—we both know that I would have hurt you if I had given in to my anger. I'm not proud to admit that, the hate was overwhelming me by that point but I was stunned by the compassion that I felt when your mother and wife visited my home a few days ago. It truly opened my eyes._

 

_Draco, things will never be easy between us but I want to make amends for what happened, don't we both deserve that? I would love to sit down and talk to you about everything but I understand if you're unable to._

 

_I've realized that the past will always hurt but you're no longer the person that you were and I'll never be the girl that I was then. My life has changed since the War has ended and I'm finally able to enjoy what it has to offer, my husband and I are expecting our first child, which is the greatest blessing that we could have after so much pain._

 

_I want you to find happiness._

 

_Blaise may never fully understand why I would allow myself to speak to you after what happened but I know that the first step towards forgiveness is allowing it to begin and my hope is to see you happy with your family. Please tell Pansy and your mother that I would love to get together again for tea soon and I would be delighted to see your little Benjamin again, the adorable beast was my joy that day._

 

_Sincerely,_

 

_Astoria Zabini_

 

Draco read the letter three more times, disbelief leaking from every pore as he considered the madness in the woman's suggestion. Forgiveness? There was no way that he could ever accept her forgiveness after everything he had put her through. Astoria Greengrass and her family had been considered poor by the pureblood elite but they had known one another for years through various parties and needless soirees.

 

Their lack of Galleons was mocked behind closed doors and false smiles but what had made Astoria Greengrass so curious was the unmistakable fact that she had been the only half-blood in a home of purebloods. There had been no explanation of _where_ she had come from. It had seemed as if she had merely sprouted from the ground and Draco had believed for a very long time that she had been the result of an embarrassing affair.

 

The Greengrass family had always given him an air of unease and he could still remember the way her two siblings would suck the soul out of every man present simply by inhaling. Astoria's older sister had been charming, beautiful and more conniving than a snake and their parents had caused gooseflesh to rise on his arms whenever they had happened to cross paths.

 

Draco had been increasingly fascinated by the mysterious aura around Astoria and from the moment he had seen her on the Express, he had craved her. There had been something compelling about her that had pulled and dragged him towards a madness he still couldn't understand but their animosity towards one another had been vicious. Astoria had despised him and he couldn't quite blame her, he had stalked her through most of their school years, harassed and berated her with every second, “Filthy, stupid little pureblood.” He muttered to himself distastefully.

 

The memories were so unpleasant and sickening that he had a hard time believing that he had ever been so cruel but his obsession had been surreal, leading him down a path that he despised. As the Dark Lord had invaded the Manor and his life had begun to crumble, Draco's fear had lured him into using Astoria Greengrass as the perfect outlet for his own turbulent emotions. His uncontrollable lust for her had changed into a poisonous need that had eventually led him to uncovering horrible secrets about her family and using the knowledge against her, inevitably resulting in one of her family members being murdered.

 

The memory caused an explosion of pain in Draco's heart and the sudden force of it was so strong that he nearly collapsed. Tears burned in the back of his eyes but he fought the urge down stubbornly, his entire body was beginning to shake violently, _“God, I'm sorry.”_ He hadn't understood just how much agony he could cause until then. He had found out too late about the murder to stop it from happening and he had lived with the guilt ever since, it had been two years but he could still remember the rage that had been on Astoria's tear streaked face.

 

Draco knew that she would have killed him that day. He was certain that she would have cut his chest open with one good slice of her wand, vengeance had been in her eyes and he had expected a very quick death. He would never understand why he was still breathing, he didn't deserve to live. How could she forgive him?

 

It was a crime for her to even consider such a thing.

 

Why would she think that would make anything right?

 

It wouldn't bring either of them any true happiness.

 

Draco had been driven by selfishness and jealousy when he had sought to destroy Astoria Greengrass's precious life, their relationship would never have been accepted by his peers. His insane longing had taken a dangerous new purpose. Astoria had never shown even the slightest bit of interest in him and when she had fallen in love with Blaise Zabini, his pride had never bothered to let them be.

 

Draco's jaw clenched as he recalled how furious he had been to discover them engaged in a passionate kiss one night, he had stumbled upon them by accident. He had been enraged at their happiness. Blaise Zabini had never been what he would consider a friend and he had never suspected that he would truly have an interest in Astoria either, though he now smirked at the stupidity of his own reasoning.

 

It had been very clear that Zabini had found her just as fascinating as he had but Draco hadn't wanted to acknowledge the truth, knowing in the pit of his soul that the other boy deserved her more. He had been forced to understand that real love wasn't about owning a person and expecting them to bend to his will, that obvious truth had eluded him for most of his life.

 

How could he have been such a fool? Draco had wasted so much time being a fool. Even though he still wasn't certain what had really happened between the pair before they had returned to Hogwarts, Draco reflected that their engagement shouldn't have come as much of a surprise when he had found out.

 

The announcement had shocked the stuffy purebloods in Slytherin House but his lips tilted up with a rueful smile as he recalled how happy they had been even as he had tried to ruin everything. Was that love? The question tantalized the edges of Draco's mind for several minutes and he wondered what it must feel like to love another person so completely.

 

Draco had been married to Pansy Parkinson for two years but he had never felt that spark of pure joy—he appreciated and admired his wife but he didn't think that it was anywhere love. Pansy had saved him from destroying himself completely when he had been at his lowest point, re-entering his life shortly after the War ended and staying by his side through every bad thing.

 

Draco had never felt such strength from her before but that wasn't really love, he merely felt envious and obligated to be by her side. He selfishly acknowledged that his son deserved the best mother that the world could possibly offer. The public had been both shocked and outraged when it had been leaked that he had adopted a child but his sneering peers couldn't understand that he had truly done it out of the goodness of his heart.

 

Benjamin's biological mother had wanted to marry him in order to spare herself scandal, treating her son as some sort of baggage. Draco had declined the selfish offer heatedly before taking the source of her “anguish” away. He had loved his son the moment he had laid eyes on him but even that small happiness in his life wasn't enough to ease the guilt he carried.

 

Draco's eyes began to burn as he recalled how much braver Astoria Zabini was, her new title sliding strangely on his tongue. Blaise Zabini had accepted the true darkness that had hovered over her without fear, earning her love the proper way and without the vile methods that he had used.

 

Draco smiled bitterly and examined the letter more closely, his trembling hands causing the parchment to dance like an Autumn leaf. “How could you write such a thing to a monster like me?” he murmured gently, his cracked voice faint. How could Astoria even think to offer him happiness after what he had taken away from her? His eyes threatened to water and he wiped the oncoming tears away, scanning over the letter as if he were hunting for a curse.

 

There was nothing but happiness in the woman's words and judging from the date of this letter, she may have already given birth. Draco bit back a sharp curse, he was too much of a sniveling coward to send her any gifts. The thunderstorm outside boomed and cracked as if the sky were being ripped open but Draco ignored the sound, his heart hammering. He understood that Astoria's letter had been a genuine attempt at a sincere apology but he would never be able to face her in person, he would never be able to live through the guilt.

 

There would be nothing but an endless amount of kindness in her violet eyes and Draco would be far too overwhelmed by it to respond. He felt a shock of amazement go through him as he realized that his mother and wife had already visited her.

 

When?

 

Pansy had mentioned nothing to him and he knew that his mother must have changed drastically these past two years. The haughty Narcissa Malfoy that had raised him would never admit to setting foot in a half-blood home. Benjamin's behavior had been the same, however and his son could hardly string two sentences together without erupting into giggles and he certainly didn't expect him to suddenly reveal a detailed account of the incident.

 

Why would his family keep a meeting like this a secret?

 

Draco pondered the reason for a long time, his eyes scanning the neatly written paragraphs as if there were some hidden code that he had missed. Astoria's words revealed nothing but the answer nagged at the back of his mind before he finally realized how foolish he was, Pansy had always been able to look into the ugly parts of his heart and he felt terrible for taking her for granted.

 

His mother had noticed his downward spiral as well, the two of them sensing that he was on the verge of giving up on his life. They had probably sought Astoria out in an effort to save him. If the two of them had been able to patch up their differences and move forward, there would have been some hope for him but he hadn't opened the letter until now.

 

He hadn't even considered that Astoria wanted peace.

 

Draco had wallowed in his own guilt for two years, not knowing that they had pushed aside their pride for him...that there had been a chance to smile again. How had this even happened? This letter had been rotting away on his desk for months like a corpse while he had allowed himself to drown in liquor and grief. He had never even bothered to open it until now and wondered what his reaction would have been like several months ago but his head pounded with too many memories and he could have choked on his own guilt.

 

“It's too late, it's too late.” Draco whispered, nearly ripping the letter apart as he read what troubled him the most:

 

_I want you to find happiness._

 

Draco wasn't sure what it was about that request that hurt him but the force of it was like a knife to his wounded heart. Astoria Zabini possessed the kindest heart and he was suddenly overcome by how much his own wife loved him when their marriage was merely an obligation.

 

Pansy had given up the chance to find real happiness with a man that would worship her and instead she had shackled herself to him. He had seen how lovely she had been in his darkest moment but he hadn't improved since their wedding and he could barely stand to look at her.

 

What was love?

 

 _I want you to find happiness_ , Astoria Zabini had wrote.

 

The beautifully crafted words began to blur under his gaze and he ripped it into pieces, hearing the angels sobbing as he bowed his head. He hadn't allowed himself to cry until now and the tears were hot, relentless and never ending because she had asked for the one thing he simply could never do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a super angsty challenge and I hope you guys enjoy all the feels!


End file.
